They Will Come When We Call
by EveryDayArtist
Summary: A modern day AU. The Amis try to improve the situation of the homeless in their home-town but when an argument causes them to potentially loose one of their own they have to rework what it means to be an Ami and whether their loyalty should be to the cause or to each other. (NOT a deathfic.) (A mix of the brick and musical) Part 1 of the Side-By-Side!Verse
1. Prologue

_**They Will Come When We Call**_

**A **_**Les Miserables**_** FanFiction **

**By EveryDayArtist**

**Rating: **T; for some adult themes and violence. Rating subject to change.

* * *

"_**Let us take to the streets with no doubt in our hearts, with a jubilant shout, they will come one and all, they will come when we call" –Red and Black**_

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

Cosette knew most of her boyfriend's friends relatively well, so the wave of chaos that hit her as she entered the café wasn't unexpected. She shook her head as she walked past the doors and scanned the room for a familiar head of spikey hair. The woman behind the counter, a few years older than her and curvy with a mass of curly brown hair, winked and nodded at the back room. Cosette continued further into the crowded building, peering through the back door and sighing at the second mob of young men.

Then her eyes caught a pair of warm brown ones hiding behind a pair of stylish black-framed glasses and she felt a rush of recognition. She knew his name was Combeferre because when Marius had introduced her to his group she had immediately marked the tall, studious man as someone she wanted to get to know. (If not only because he was the quietest and most mature of the lot and had actually introduced himself like an adult.) He smiled knowingly at her and managed to tear one hand away from his book long enough to point at the far left corner and mouth 'over there' before lowering his eyes again; somehow keeping his concentration amongst the din of the café.

In order to get to her destination Cosette had to go past three loud boys who seemed to be in the middle of an impromptu wrestling match. One with dark brown hair and the biggest blue eyes she'd ever seen was working with another, taller (Feuilly, that was what she thought he was called) man as they ganged up on another boy pinned to a table. Now, him she remembered because he was in her poetry class. She smiled at Jehan Prouvaire as he smiled weakly back from where he was being playfully choked by the dark haired boy.

"Good afternoon, Cosette. Marius is over there—Courfeyrac! Let me go you jerk!"

Within a few steps the pretty blonde girl could finally see the object of her search. Marius looked up as she approached and his face lit up in a huge smile as he leapt up to kiss her on the cheek. Cosette laughed and accepted a seat as she shrugged off her jacket. "This place is hard to find."

"That's why we like it." A skinny redhead that was seated on Marius' left commented. "It's out of the way."

A massive boy who was seated next to him snorted. "We only meet here because we get discounts on the drinks. Joly's dating the owner's cousin."

The skinny boy's face burned red and he slouched in his seat as the large man, who introduced himself as Lesgle ("But call me Bossuet, everyone does.") laughed loudly.

Cosette watched the lively boys in their little groups play and yell and tease, and bit her lip. Misunderstanding her expression, Marius leaned toward her and began to mummer in her ear.

"Sorry about this. Everyone gets a little crazy before meetings."

The blonde just smiled. "When I said total immersion, I meant it. This is just what I asked for. So relax, okay?"

She adored that cute little blush that would cover his freckled nose whenever he was embarrassed and it was always fun to draw it out. She leaned toward his shoulder and mused how different this setting was to the quiet life she'd been living.

Everyone at their little table jumped slightly as a pair of voices in another corner were suddenly audible over the rest of the babble. The tones and words were harsh and she looked around in confusion, as the boys did nothing. The dark haired boy, Courfeyrac, came to hang over Bossuet's shoulder. "They're at it again."

"Like clockwork." Joly said, not even looking away from where he was picking at a scab on his wrist.

Cosette twisted around to look for the ruckus and found two boys facing off, nearly nose-to-nose. The taller one was blond, with pale blue eyes and a face so attractive that it seemed unreasonable. She remembered this one, Enjolras, and she couldn't help but be a little uncomfortable around him. He'd seemed so aloof when they'd been introduced and now seeing him so angry her first impression was only reinforced. She didn't know the boy standing up to him but couldn't help but think there couldn't possibly be a more different figure. The other boy had a mass of unruly black curls and a face lined with shadows and stubble. He was smaller and looked close to laughter as he stared at his friend, still yelling.

Enjolras threw his hands in the air. "You are quite possibly the most ignorant, irritating waste of space that I have ever met!"

"You're running out of adjectives." The dark haired boy grinned. "You've called me ignorant fifteen times this week."

"Because that is what you are!" The blond began to stomp off and everyone held their breath; hoping that it was over for now. Jehan actually groaned as Enjolras spun on his heel and stormed back to the grinning brunette. "And why the hell are you counting anyway?!"

"Because it irritates you and you're cute when you're angry."

"I swear, Grantaire, I will…"

Grantaire smiled widely and leaned closer to the taller man. "Will what? File a formal protest and make a petition?"

The argument might have been stopped there if Courfeyrac had not giggled into his hand. Enjolras' eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists as Grantaire took a step back and spread his arms in a 'hey, don't look at me' way.

"Why the hell are you even here?"

Grantaire shrugged. "Beer's good. Anyway, it's your own fault-"

"MY fault?!"

"-since you're the one that asked my opinion in the first place." The young man tapped the table, where papers were scattered over the hardwood surface. "A petition is all well and good; hey, everyone loves to give their opinion, right? Loudly in my case, I am the first to admit. But afterwards? If you actually get this motion carried? POOF, there goes your supporters. There's a massive difference between signing your name on a piece of paper and actually giving an effort. You want this shelter to be built by volunteers in order to cut costs but how many people are actually gonna stick out on a project that long if they're not getting anything from it? Humans are a pathetic and selfish as a whole and I guarantee that this is going to blow up in your face." The cynic made a sweeping bow, grabbing a bottle from the table. "And with that, M. Apollo, I am not nearly drunk enough for this conversation. Au revoir."

Grantaire was halfway to the bar before Enjolras managed to unclench his hands and stomp jerkily to the table where Bossuet was slow clapping the drunk's exit. The blond shot him a withering glance and put his head in his hands. "Don't encourage him."

Joly shook his head as he got up to help some of the other boys pull the two tables together. "He does it to wind you up. You're the one encouraging him here."

As the meeting began, the men all quieted down and settled in their chairs around the massive pile of fliers and sheets. Enjolras sat at the head of the table, flanked by Courfeyrac on one side and Combeferre on the other, clipboard at the ready as he took notes. Next to the law student was Joly, who was muttering under his breath that his scab looked a little off, and then Bossuet who was watching him with a little grin. Next was a gangly young man with messy hair named Bahorel who was texting someone under the table and out of his leader's sight. Cosette and Marius were seated at the end of the table and next to Jehan, who handed the young woman a drink and curled up next to Feuilly. After a few minutes, Grantaire joined them, plopping down next to Courfeyrac who threw an arm around his shoulder and whispered something that made the drunk smile.

It was soon apparent that they were attempting to get permission to reconstruct the dilapidated bank down the street into a homeless shelter. Cosette felt a thrill of affection as the boys all contributed to the planning; even the comments coming from the gang's resident cynic only worked to spur them on to better ideas. They had an outline of their mission written down when they took a break for drinks and to allow Combeferre and Enjolras to go and copy the paper. As they all settled down to talk, the woman from the bar came over and placed a tray of new drinks and snacks on the table before going to sit on Joly's lap. The redhead turned to Cosette and made introductions.

"Cosette, this is Musichetta. She and her cousin own the place."

"Just call me 'Chetta." The woman laughed as she ran a hand through Joly's hair. "So this is the famous Cosette. God bless you for agreeing to date that dope, I was getting fed up with his love-sick rants."

Marius blushed furiously as Cosette gave the other woman a friendly smile. "I hope he's not been too much of a bother."

"I cannot think a fate worse, for any man's ear, than another longing verse, from this fool here." Jehan said absentmindedly from where he was doodling on the back of Feuilly's hand.

"If we're done insulting me?" Marius protested.

Returning to the café, Enjolras pulled his roommate to the side. "Ferre, listen, do you think he's right?"

"Who?"

"The winecask, who else?"

Combeferre sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I knew getting you into period dramas was a bad idea. Look, we both agree R is a pessimist. I think this plan has every chance of succeeding and that he's just pushing your buttons."

"I'm getting sick of it." The young activist muttered as he looked over the table of friends.

"Yeah, well, you do wear your buttons in a very easily accessible place." Combeferre sighed and threw the papers onto the tabletop. "Here we are gents and ladies, these should explain everything for anyone who needs more info."

Enjolras began pacing. "We need to strategize. Let's assign territory, there's ten of us-"

"Nine, actually." Feuilly raised his hand quickly, an apologetic look on his face. "I can't get work off this week."

"Alright, nine of us. So if we section off the area and pair up…"

Enjolras and Combeferre would take the shopping centers. Courfeyrac and Jehan agreed to hit the campus. Joly and Bossuet claimed the parks and Bahorel took on Grantaire with good humor as they volunteered to try the bus and train stations. Cosette raised her hand and offered to take the business section with her boyfriend, earning her an approving look from the blond leader. But once the areas were claimed they found that one place remained.

Jehan frowned. "Someone still needs to try First Street. There's plenty of bars, restaurants and shops to be a good place to pick up some names."

"You volunteering?" Bahorel asked, leaning back in his seat as the little poet gave him a withering look.

"I can't, my schedule's packed. Are you?"

Everyone shifted slightly as Enjolras glared around the room. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Enjy…" Courfeyrac shook his head. "You've got way too much going on. We can hit the area later."

"I'll do it."

There was a stunned silence as all eyes turned to the drunk slouched in his chair. Grantaire bore the incredulous looks patiently and shrugged. "I have nothing better to do."

"Anybody else?" The blond asked desperately. "ANYONE else?!"

The cynic rolled his eyes and hauled himself up. "Thank you, for your vote of confidence. I know the area and don't have to work this week. I have no homework either, I can do it."

"This is important." Enjolras stressed.

"Then I will treat it as so."

Cosette bit her lip and watched both men stare each other down until the blond gave in and agreed. The young woman frowned thoughtfully at the happy look on Grantaire's face as Enjolras turned away and crossed her arms.

* * *

To say that Jehan was pissed off was an understatement. The young man was hunched over his coffee table, gritting his teeth and tossing another balled up piece of paper onto the floor.

Courfeyrac and Feuilly watched from a safe distance on the couch, peering over the edge and absent-mindedly eating fruit-snacks. There was a knock at the door and Joly entered, raising an eyebrow at the two crouching on the couch. Courfeyrac made a shushing noise at him and waved him over.

"Jehan has writer's block." Feuilly whispered.

Joly paled and hid with them, the three young men watching the teen seated at the table and scribbling on yet another piece of paper. A loud noise reverberated from down the hall as Bahorel threw open his door and walked into the room, asking loudly, "Hey, do we have any-"

"GO AWAY!" Everyone flinched as the youngest man slammed the table with a palm. "I am trying to work here! I am on a deadline, have writer's block and YOU ARE NOT HELPING!"

Joly and Feuilly made a run for it, leaving Courfeyrac and Bahorel to deal with their irate roommate on their own. They exchanged a glance and went over to haul the poet from his seat. "Come on, let's get coffee. Maybe the fresh air will clear your head."

Jehan glared at Bahorel. "I need to work."

"You sound like Enjy." Courfeyrac said cheerfully as they frog marched the younger boy out the door. "Let's have some fun and get those creative juices flowing."

Grantaire was sprawled out in the grass, looking up at the sky and absent-mindedly tapping a rhythm on the ground. He barely reacted as his three coffee-laden friends joined him. "Have you ever wondered if clouds will ever cover the sun completely and ice the whole world?"

"No, R, I think the only people who wonder about things like that in their free time are you when you're a few drinks in." Jehan snorted, sipping his hazelnut latte.

"It's a valid concern." The man sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "You think if I ask Enjolras he'd start a fund or something?"

"I think if you ask Enjolras he'd punch you in the face for wasting his time." Courfeyrac commented. "Speaking of whom, have you done your task?"

Bahorel held up a hand defensively. "I swear, we did our rounds."

"What about the extra stuff you promised to do?" Jehan asked the drunk, letting him steal some of his coffee.

"I'll get to it tonight." Grantaire mumbled, shoving art supplies into his bag.

"You better, 'Jol wants to hand it over tomorrow. He needs those signatures." Jehan looked at his friend in concern as the older man rubbed at his eyes and nodded. "'Taire, have you slept recently?"

"Recently." He hedged, standing up unsteadily. "Come on, meeting starts in a few minutes. I want coffee."

Enjolras eyed the group as they entered the back room and zeroed in on the cynic. "Grantaire, have you been to-"

"Tonight, Apollo. I swear." Flopping into a chair, Grantaire waved a hand, nearly spilling his coffee. "I have a plan and everything."

"I NEED those signatures." The activist leaned over the table on his knuckles and glared hard at the older man. "I swear if you mess this up…"

"Have a little faith."

"This from the man who has none himself."

Grantaire flipped him off and slumped further into his chair, scowling as Joly sat next to him and began asking after his health. Down the table Cosette and Marius were handing over their petitions to Combeferre. Enjolras joined them, looking slightly surprised. "…Cosette, right? I honestly didn't expect to see you again."

The young woman laughed. "Do you often scare people off after only one meeting?"

"Well your boyfriend only comes to half the meetings and it took Courfeyrac a month to get him to come at all." Enjolras smiled slightly.

"That would be because, unlike you lot, I study and have an actual social life." Marius objected good-naturedly before he and Cosette were nearly bowled over by Grantaire slamming into their backs and latching on to their shoulders. He grinned over Joly's call of 'those bags look too dark, you need to get more sleep or you might get seriously ill' and half hugged both of them.

"Marius, I have a question! If you've been dating this far-too-good-for-you girl for several months now, have you done the whole meet the parents thing?"

The abrupt paling of the boy's face was a pretty clear answer. Grantaire grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "Oh man, what's that like? I ask because I've never gotten there myself."

"Somehow I can't see you getting past the first date." Enjolras muttered.

"Wait, there's a second date?"

Ignoring the man, Enjolras began to pile the papers into neat stacks, nodding over his shoulder. "Isn't that your phone?"

The drunk frowned and twisted around to grab the vibrating box. "I have a message… No one but you guys ever call me..." He flipped the phone open and backed away from the others.

Marius cleared his throat as Enjolras continued to go through their papers. "Hey, Jehan wanted me to ask; he's got a poetry reading next week. Would you go?"

The blond looked up hesitantly. "One of those poetry things? I don't know if…"

"Jol." Combeferre murmured, coming to stand next to him. "You're the only one of us that hasn't been to any of his readings. He'd really appreciate it."

"I have to go."

Everyone turned at the unusual tone in Grantaire's voice as he lunged for his backpack. "See you guys later."

"The signatures!" Enjolras called, glaring at the dark haired boy's back.

Grantaire turned and nodded at him. "Tonight. I promise Apollo. I really got to go." There was a panicked tone in his voice as he ran for the door and the other friends all stared after him.

Feuilly folded his arms and bit his lip. "What do you think is wrong with R?"

"You mean other than usual?" Enjolras snorted.

Jehan walked over, grimacing. "Can't you be a little nicer? Please?"

The blond looked like he was about to snap at the little poet but Jehan stared back at him calmly and put his hands on his hips, glaring. Enjolras sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I'm sorry Jehan. My father emailed me last night."

Everyone froze and turned to look at the activist as he slumped in his seat. Enjolras' eyes were boring into the table as Combeferre sat next to him and motioned for Courfeyrac to go get drinks. "What did he want 'Jol?"

"The usual. To criticize my life choices, my home, my political views, my friends, hell, even my grades."

"Don't you have, like, straight 'A's?" Bahorel asked.

"You see the issue." Enjolras muttered. "He couldn't even take the time to call and cut me down. He just sent a damn message at work."

Jehan looked heartbroken as he sat down next to Enjolras and bit his lip. "I'm sorry."

The blond looked down at the younger boy and smiled slightly. Putting an arm around the boy's shoulders he hugged him. "I'm sorry if I'm being snippy."

Combeferre knew that Jehan's parents had kicked him out of the house after he graduated from high school and that at moments where Enjolras was in this kind of mood it was best to leave them alone.

* * *

Grantaire dashed into his apartment, breathing heavily as he stumbled to a halt in front of his landlord. "Sir, I…"

"Third time in a row." M. Thénardier said, arms crossed. "I did warn you what would happen if you were late again."

"Sir, please, I got laid off." Grantaire gasped, running his hands through his curly hair. "I'll get the money soon, just let me have a little more time, please."

Thénardier straightened, puffing out his skinny chest and trying to look imposing. "No money for rent, no room."

"Sir!" Grantaire felt cold. "Sir please…"

"Pack up your stuff and be out before the hour's out."

"Sir, I'm begging you, at least give me until tonight to find a place to crash." Grantaire was starting to feel a headache coming on. "Sir, I have a little money, I can pay for the day."

The ugly little man looked thoughtful as he stared at the boy, tapping thin fingers on his logbook. He looked close to denying Grantaire his request when the door opened and a tousled head of hair poked through.

"Dad, hey, Montparnasse, Claquesous, Babet, and Gueulemer are here. D'you wanna talk to them or what?" Eponine winked at Grantaire as her father perked up and made for the door.

"Give the money to 'Ponine and get yourself scarce. You've got 'till midnight. Sirs, welcome!"

The girl grinned broadly at Grantaire as he shoved the money into her hands and mouthed 'thank you'. He stood in the middle of the apartment and tried to come up with a plan as his breathing slowed back to normal. He could ask one of the Amis if he could stay with them until he found a job.

_Oh yeah, because they really want to deal with a screw-up like you. You really want to admit to them you lost your job, again? You haven't even told them you dropped out of your classes._

Shaking off the thoughts, Grantaire caught sight of the papers on his table and grabbed them, making for the door. He could do this for Enjolras first. He'd deal with things later.

* * *

Joly walked over to his kitchen table, smiling at the sight of his friends all in the midst of an argument. Jehan was hunched over his notebook, trying to write as Bossuet and Courfeyrac loudly teased Marius while Cosette and Musichetta laughed and watched on.

Joly kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and settled between her and Bossuet. "What are we talking about now?"

"Love." Cosette said, petting her boyfriend's hair as he slumped in his seat. "Marius made the mistake of talking about it in front of Enjolras and he kinda ripped him a new one."

"I should have known better." The boy sighed. "Enjolras wouldn't know love if it kicked him in the face."

"Think he's… Y'know, asexual?" Cosette asked cautiously. Courfeyrac grinned.

"We have been asking that for years. He's never had a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything. I think he may be."

"No." Musichetta shook her head. "I think he's aromantic."

"What's the difference?" Marius asked, picking up his drink and re-entering the conversation."

Musichetta leaned forward. "Enjy's never shown any interest in having any sort of relationship. Someone who's asexual can still want to be in a relationship and need love." She nuzzled Joly's neck. "I mean look at me."

"You're asexual?" Cosette asked in surprise.

"All my life." The pretty woman said. "Unfortunately when you work at a bar, telling guys that you're not interested in them that way doesn't really work so Joly is my 'boyfriend'. Letting them know you're taken works a hell of a lot better." She reached over the redhead to squeeze Bossuet's shoulder. "Joly dates me for a while, then it's Bossie's turn. That way if they fall for someone, I still have a guy around."

"And we all know that no woman is going to put up with Joly for long, so she'll never be alone." Bossuet teased, as Joly slapped him on the arm.

Musichetta leaned over to where Cosette was sitting. "I'm asexual but not aromantic so I still enjoy the idea of being in a relationship. I guess you could say they're my cuddle buddies."

Cosette giggled and beamed. "That is so sweet. So that's why you think Enjolras is aromantic?"

"Well he does sort of have that 'no touchie' vibe going o-"

"WHY does nothing want to rhyme with winter?! It's not that hard!" Jehan was practically in a fetal position in his seat and Courfeyrac sighed and stood up.

"I better get this one to bed. I'll be so glad when this project is over."

* * *

Grantaire drifted into one of the bars and looked around curiously. The man behind the counter grinned wolfishly at him. "Hey, R, it's been a while. Where you been at?"

"Busy." The young shook his head, trying to keep his mind on the task at hand. "C'n I ask everybody to sign something?"

"Only if you buy a drink." The man said cheerfully, pushing over a mug. Grantaire took it and moved to start speaking to some bikers in the corner. He fumbled through the presentation that had seemed so much easier with Bahorel helping him. The drink, which over time somehow turned into several drinks, was fogging his brain and made the young man stumble even more as he tried to talk the men into signing. He'd hit several establishments but had gotten only a few signatures so far and was starting to feel that tightening in his chest that usually preceded the voices. As the men around him ignored him or cracked jokes the words began to swim through his head and make his rub at his eyes as a migraine blasted his senses.

_You can't even get people to sign a piece of paper, what's the matter with you? No wonder you drink, you're useless even when you try. Why they put up with a worthless lump like you I don't know…_

"Can you please just sign?" He snapped, the headache increasing. "You won't get pulled into anything, I just need the numbers."

"Tell ya what," One large man grinned. "Play a couple of rounds with us and we'll think about it while you do. Come on, have some fun."

_Might as well, I mean look at what you've done so far. No one cares, just like you said. Why are you even trying? You told him it wouldn't work._

Grantaire downed the rest of his drink, trying to numb the ache in his head and accepted the pool stick. "What the hell right?"

* * *

"Come on, 'Jol!" Combeferre ran after the younger man, who stuck his head into one of the bars before moving down the street again. The older man caught Enjolras' arm and held him still for a second. "He promised he'd do it. You don't need to check up on him; he's not a child."

"No, he's an idiot and that's almost worse." Enjolras shook his head and broke away, making for another building. "I can't believe he talked me into-"

Combeferre felt a surge of apprehension as the younger man stiffened and glared at the room in front of him. Enjolras had that look in his eyes that was selectively reserved for politicians and Grantaire and always made Combeferre feel like the blond was only a second away from strangling someone. The older man looked over his friend's shoulder and felt his heart fall; Grantaire was leaning against a pool table, laughing at something that one of the men he was playing against had said. The papers lay abandoned on a table.

Before Combeferre could stop him, Enjolras was halfway across the room, locked on to the dark haired man who hadn't noticed his entrance.

"GRANTAIRE!"

To his credit, the man didn't even flinch at the tone of the activist's voice; although that probably was due to the amount of alcohol in his systems at the moment. "Hey Apollo." The drunk said cheerfully. "You want to play?"

Enjolras grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the table with a little more force than was probably warranted as the older man stumbled to gain his balance. Grantaire looked terrified now, as though he suddenly understood the situation and wasn't ready to deal with it. The blond carried on anyway, oblivious to the change in the older man's attitude.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Enjolras, I was just taking a break…"

The younger man snatched up the papers from the table. "After all the hard work you put into getting these, what, ten signatures?"

Combeferre had a very bad feeling about the look on Grantaire's face as Enjolras said that and tried to intervene but was shrugged off by the blond, who continued on relentlessly.

"Why did I honestly think this could work? I'm so stupid for even giving you a chance-did you even try? Did you even think about trying before you got plastered and wrote it off?"

Grantaire was shaking as he stared back at Enjolras. "Of course I did! I don't want to disappoint you, I swear but it was so hard-"

"So you gave up?!" The blond was furious, his voice rising in volume as he waved the papers in front of the older man. "Are you really so pathetic that you'd rather give up on a simple task than try?! You just give a worthless half-hearted attempt and-"

"I tried!" The drunk flinched as though he'd been physically slapped at the word 'worthless' and began to yell back. "I tried even though I don't believe that this'll work. What do you want from me?"

"For you to get your act together for the cause!"

"I don't think I can-"

"Then stop coming!"

Grantaire froze at that. His eyes went wide and his face paled as he stared silently at Enjolras who was shaking and looked a little surprised himself before taking a deep breath and gathering the rest of the papers. Grantaire raised a shaking hand and managed to croak out, "Enjolras, I-"

"If you're not going to commit and just waste our time then I don't want you at the meetings." Enjolras cut him off, not meeting his eyes. "You're just a distraction."

The blond pushed out the door before he could see the mix of emotions that flashed over the other man's face before settling on a blank and terrified look that drained his entire face of color and made him crash to the floor. He slumped over, his head in his hands and breathing erratically as Combeferre dropped to his knees next to him. "Come on, 'Taire, breath. He's just… 'Taire look at me."

The man pulled away, staggering to his feet. "I… I have to go."

"No, 'Taire, wait-"

"I'm so sorry. Tell him I'm so so sorry."

"R, wait!"

* * *

**So how did I do? This is my first attempt at the fandom and I think I've got a handle on the characters so far. I'm going to try to infuse the story with aspects of the original novel and play while doing my own thing. This will be a heavily Enjolras and Grantaire story but I'm trying to include everyone as much as possible. This will not turn into an angst fest and the only relationships so far are the canon ones. I thrive on feedback of any kind so please let me know what you think. It may be a little while before the next chapter gets posted since I'm still writing it but after that it should move much more quickly. This is just to see if there's an interest. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Six Months Later….**

* * *

Bahorel shook his head, showering the floor with raindrops and waved cheerfully at Musichetta. "Evening! Rest in the back?" Ignoring the widening of her eyes he loped into the back room and headed over to his friends. "Hey, sorry I'm late.

Joly actually fell out of his chair as he sprang at the other boy. "What the hell did you do to your face?!"

It wasn't too odd for the young man to come in covered in bruises; Bahorel thrived on conflict and was always ready to break a face or start a brawl. The shiner he proudly displayed as he sat down next to Feuilly was a garish shade of purple that bled into a blueish-black. He shrugged. "I walked into a door."

"A bar door?" Enjolras asked as he sat down, glaring at the other man. Most of the group avoided eye contact with the blond, who was already typing on his laptop and shutting out the world around him. Over the last couple months the man's mood had become increasingly darker and no one could think of a way to pull him out of his funk. It was most likely connected to the fact that their petition had, once again, been rejected. If things kept on the way they were going then the old building would be torn down and turned into a shopping center. Combeferre watched his best friend and wondered if that was the only reason for his black mood.

"Well, a door and a guy's fist." Bahorel admitted. "They were insulting my lady friend."

The door opened again and Cosette, Marius, Jehan and a dark haired girl walked in; the latter girl rolling her eyes. "I told you, I can handle myself. You're lucky Marius and Jehan were able to drag that brute off of you."

"You all went out drinking?" Joly asked disapprovingly as he pressed an ice pack to Bahorel's face.

Frowning at the uninterested activist hiding behind his laptop, Cosette shook her head. "You know some of us can't yet. We were at Jehan's reading this afternoon. We all went out for ice cream and coffee afterwards and ran into some jerks that wanted to give Eponine a bad time."

The dark haired girl shrugged. "I've heard worse. Gotta say though, hanging with you lot really is a thrill a minute." Even as she said it she managed to sit as far away from Cosette as possible.

"If you're all done." Enjolras snapped. "We need to figure out how we're going to present our argument at the town meeting next week."

Courfeyrac shot the group a worried look over his friend's head as he set down his take out and slunk into his seat. "We've got time… It's not for a while after all."

"We need to use as much time as we can." Enjolras looked exhausted. "You know what, fine." He stood and shoved his computer into his backpack. "I'll do this part on my own. See you guys tomorrow."

Combeferre swore and followed his roommate to play clean up as the other young men and women shared nervous glances. Jehan put his head in his arms as Bossuet rubbed his back soothingly and looked around the table. "We need to deal with this."

"He's been like this for too long." Joly agreed. "I know he's upset about the project not working out but there's gotta be more to it than that."

"It's like he's off kilter about something." Marius mumbled. "How long has he been like this?"

"I dunno, since the first petition failed?"

"Since R left."

Everyone turned and looked at Jehan, who sat up and pushed hair out his face resolutely. "We need to stop avoiding the issue. He did something and Grantaire left and now he regrets it and I'm glad because I miss my friend. I don't know what he said to him but I hope it's driving him crazy and that his stupid plan fails. Because I am honestly getting sick of his face and want nothing more than to slap him into the next hemisphere."

Because everyone flinched at the vindictive tone in the normally kind-hearted boy's voice, no one noticed the guilty look that Cosette and Marius shared.

* * *

"Jol?" Combeferre peered around the bedroom door and watched his best friend pace back and forth across the carpet. "What do you want for dinner? I was thinking pasta."

"Whatever." Enjolras fell onto his bed and rubbed at his eyes in exhaustion. "I don't care."

Making a split second decision, Combeferre walked over and hauled the younger man up. "Come on, we'll order out and watch a movie. You need a break." Forestalling any arguments by roughly shoving his friend towards the door he continued. "You've done all you can. Come on, we can get stuff from that Italian place you like."

"I need t-"

"NO. 'Jol, so help me, you are taking a break and interacting with human beings for at least one evening."

Enjolras sighed and rolled his neck, stretching. "Fine. I'm sorry; I don't know why I'm so out of it lately. I feel like I'm… a volcano about to erupt. I can't understand it."

"You're stressed." Combeferre felt some of his irritation drain away as he led his roommate to the couch. "You need to relax and let loose a little. Let's watch the DVD I borrowed from Eponine."

"Who's Eponine?" The blond flopped onto the couch, spreading out his legs and letting out a contented sigh.

"…Seriously?" Combeferre had to bite back a laugh. "The girl that's been coming with Marius for the last month and a half? She's his landlord's daughter and they met a while back? He convinced her to come hang out with the rest of us—she was at the meeting today!"

"I think I'm more out of it than I thought." Enjolras mumbled, sitting up and scratching his head. "Wonder what else I've missed."

"Hopefully not much." The older man popped the disc into their player and settled into an armchair as the menu loaded. He flipped out his phone. "What do you want?"

"That angel-hair stuff we got last time. With the diced tomatoes."

"On it."

As Combeferre made the call, Enjolras sat up at a loud knocking at their door, followed by it being thrown open loudly and slamming against the wall. "YO! Anybody home?"

"Why did we give him a key?" Enjolras asked his roommate wearily as Courfeyrac wandered into the living room and waved a case of beer in the air.

"Better make that three orders." Combeferre said calmly before closing his phone and raising an eyebrow. "And to what do we owe this unexpected visit?"

Courfeyrac flopped down next to the blond and handed over a bottle. "Figured you could use some cheering up. That was quite a tantrum you threw back there. What would you have done if someone actually deserved it?"

"I know… I know." Enjolras ran a hand over his face. "What did I miss?"

"Well, you should be glad that Jehan's not old enough to drunk text you because I shudder to think what he'd be like without his inhibitions. Other than that, not too much."

Combeferre sighed. "Jol, you need to talk to him."

"I know." Enjolras looked blankly at the wall in front of him and began tapping on his leg. "I'm sorry, I really am; everyone just… annoys me. I can't understand it."

Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow and was about to comment when his cell went off. Holding up a hand apologetically he turned away. "Yeah, 'lo? Hey Marius, wazzup?"

The other two boys sipped their drinks as they watched the partyer slowly look more and more concerned before quickly promising to head out. He flipped off the phone and turned back to them. "So basically, Feuilly and Marius' apartment just got robbed."

It took the trio twenty minutes to get to the building. When they arrived Bossuet and Joly had already gotten there and were helping the two boys tidy up their ransacked rooms. Marius was pale and shaking slightly as Joly softly walked him through deep breathing exercises. Feuilly groaned under his breath as he picked up their smashed dishes. "They took the TV, the stereo, most of our DVDs and even some of our clothes. What the hell?"

Eponine appeared at that moment, walking over to hug Marius comfortingly. "Dad called the police and they should be here really soon. Are you okay?"

"At least we weren't here at the time right?" The young man suddenly paled even more at the thought and swallowed. "Y-Yeah, could have been a lot worse."

"Are you guys alright?!" Cosette burst into the room, her powder-blue eyes wide and hair pulled messily in a bun. For the normally picture perfect girl, this was a blaring hint that she had dashed over without thinking. She threw herself at her boyfriend, who hugged her tightly and buried his head in her hair. "Oh, baby, I'm so so sorry."

"I'm alright. I promise."

Eponine backed away slightly, eyes down and fists clenched. Enjolras was helping Bossuet right the couch and shook his head. "I think that some of should stick around tonight. Just in case they come back."

"Agreed." Jehan and Bahorel had arrived and were looking around the room in surprise. The poet's eyes were huge. "It looks like these guys could have really messed you both up."

"Yes, thanks for that." Joly rolled his eyes as Marius went even paler if that were possible.

"Excuse me?"

They all turned to see a man in the doorway, flanked by two uniformed officers. The man was in his late thirties, with slightly graying hair and a trim mustache. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a badge. "My name is Detective Frasier. We got a call about a breaking and entering?"

"You're at right place." Feuilly stepped forward and held out a hand. The older man accepted the handshake and looked around the room.

"How many of you live here?"

"Sorry, just me and Marius over there." Feuilly rubbed at the back of his neck and managed a tiny grin. "Everyone rushed over when they heard…"

The detective's eyes were a cloudy blue-gray and they sparked with a slight hint of amusement as he listened. "I'm sorry… Your house was robbed and your first instinct was to text your friends?"

"Have you ever heard of the phrase 'co-dependent'?" Joly asked with a completely straight face. "Yeah, that."

The man actually smiled at them. "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to just the tenants while these two look around. Can the rest of you head downstairs? You can leave your numbers with my partner in case we need input from you later."

"No need." A deep voice carried from the doorway. "I believe we have information on all of these gentlemen."

The second detective in the hallway was average height and stocky in build. His eyes were gray and cat-like and joined by a hawk-like nose and strong jaw. Enjolras almost physically bristled at the sight of him and Combeferre immediately moved to grasp his best friend's arm. The older boy kept a neutral face as he greeted the newcomer. "Detective Javert. It's been a while."

The man glared around the room, looking over each boy with a look of distain. Jehan moved to stand slightly behind Courfeyrac, who held his hand and glared back impudently. No one noticed the way Cosette nervously turned away and pointedly didn't look at the man.

"You haven't met this lot yet, have you Frasier?" Javert calmly walked past Enjolras, who still looked ready to pounce. "They call themselves the Amis. They've been public pests for a few years now."

"We are a peaceful activist group." The blond snarled.

"I have arrested all of you at least once." Javert countered but was quickly cut off by Combeferre.

"Most of us have only been detained for minor disturbances of the peace, not arrested."

The man glared but let it go as his younger partner looked around the room curiously. "Well… For now it sounds like we're all on the same side so let's see about getting your belongings back."

By the time that the police were done, Marius looked a little green around the gills and Enjolras was close to punching someone in the face. Combeferre and Courfeyrac shared a look and nodded before pointedly dragging their friend out the door.

As the two detectives left, the younger one with a sympathetic smile, Feuilly put a hand on his roommate's shoulder. "Hey, Marius, maybe you should stay somewhere else tonight. We can hold down the fort."

Bossuet patted him on the shoulder. "We got your back, buddy. Go get some sleep." He shot a look over his shoulder to where Joly was heading out with Jehan. "Hey, kiss 'Chetta goodnight for me."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Bahorel nodded at Marius, who looked torn. "The three of us can handle this. Go relax."

Cosette caught the meaningful look on her friends' faces and quickly grabbed her boyfriend's arm. "Come on, you can stay in the guest room. Papa won't mind."

* * *

"Papa?"

Jean Valjean looked up from the papers on his desk and smiled at his daughter as she poked her head around the door. "We're going to watch a movie. Do you want to join us?"

"I'm going to bed soon." He said, standing and walking over to his daughter to kiss her on the forehead. "Have fun. And you may want to make that young man some tea or something."

Cosette laughed. "He's not nearly as shaken up as he was when we got home. Good night, Papa."

When the young woman joined her boyfriend in the living room he was sorting through the DVDs and frowning thoughtfully. "Do we want action or something fluffier?"

"How about Breakfast Club?" Cosette suggested as she snuggled down next to him on the couch.

"Nhghn…"

The girl glared at his hedging noise and folded her arms. "It is a piece of cultural genius and don't you dare say otherwise."

"It's okay…"

"OKAY? It is so much more than okay!" She twisted in her seat to glare over her shoulder. "Will you please tell him how stupid he's being?"

Grantaire tried to speak through a mouthful of ice cream as he wandered over. "I've gotta go with Cosette here. It's a great film."

Marius threw his hands in the air as Cosette smiled smugly. "Okay, okay, Breakfast Club it is."

"Jean not joining us?" Grantaire asked as he settled into an armchair and allowed Marius to steal his carton of ice cream.

"He's going to bed." Putting in the disc and returning to her boyfriend's side, she smiled happily. "So tonight it's just me and my boys."

"I'm one of your boys right?"

"Yes, R."

"Oh, okay, good."

Marius and Cosette held back laughter as the cynic insulted all the trailers and had to resort to beating him with pillows before they all collapsed in a heap on the couch. They were all cuddling and fast asleep by the time the movie ended as they did nearly every time they watched a film.

The next morning, Marius and Cosette were busy putting the apartment back together when Grantaire slipped in, holding a bag of take-out. "You guys alone?"

"Yeah." Cosette frowned. "Feuilly and Joly went out to get a new lock and the others are all at work or in class. But you shouldn't be sneaking around."

"You promised you wouldn't do that anymore." The cynic handed over the food and whistled as he looked around the room. "Man they did a number on this place."

"Yeah, I-" Cosette was cut off as the door behind them creaked open and Grantaire only managed a panicked look before Jehan walked in, mouth open to say something before he froze. The poet stared in shock for a moment as the older man shifted awkwardly.

"Hey, Jehan…"

He hit Grantaire like a fright train, sending them both sprawling on the floor. Jehan wrapped his arms tightly around his friend's neck and screamed into his ear as the cynic winced but bore it patiently.

"YOU IDIOT! You stupid, STUPID idiot! I HATE you, you st-stupid… Where the hell have you BEEN?! I have been w-worried SICK about you! I left… I left you like a thousand text messages and voicemails and you couldn't j-just let me know y-you were A-ALIVE?! I h-hate you! I…I…I…"

The younger man burst into tears and sobbed into his shoulder as Grantaire clung to him and stroked his hair soothingly. The older man swallowed hard and cuddled the boy close as he tried to think of something to say to him. "I'm so sorry. Jehan, I am so sorry. I didn't… I didn't think-"

"No?! Really?!"

"…I deserved that. But I'm serious, I didn't think you guys would worry that much. I guess I figured that you'd all be relieved that I wasn't around to annoy you anymore."

At the horrified look on Jehan's face, Grantaire quickly continued. "I THOUGHT that; past tense! I know it's stupid, I promise. I was… In a bad way for a while and not really thinking straight."

"You… You honestly thought…" The poet was holding the older man's hand like he might try to escape and stared blankly up at him. "Why the HELL would you think that? We love you! You're our friend." Then it clicked. A little tickle of an idea in his head that he'd been carrying for months finally slotted completely into place. "I'm going to kill him."

"…Jehan?"

"I'm going to kill him. I am. That complete JERK! What the hell did he say to you?!"

The older man tried to act confused. "Who?"

"WHO DO YOU THINK?!" Grantaire thought his friend looked incredible when he was angry; copper hair falling around his round face, hazel eyes flashing and terrifying. "R, it's not that hard to figure out. You disappeared. Enjolras has been acting weird ever since and for you to think something like that…" The boy deflated and went back to looking heartbroken. "Why did you leave?"

At that Grantaire shot Cosette a nervous look and the girl walked over to put a hand on her friend's shoulder as she pried him off of the cynic. "Jehan, let's go to my house. We can explain there, okay?"

"Wait, you knew?"

She had to wince a little at the hurt in his voice but nodded calmly and pushed him to the door. "Not here, we don't want to be interrupted."

* * *

"He said that?" Jehan looked horrified as Grantaire shrugged.

"We all knew that's how he felt. And he was completely right; I gave up and let him down."

"But to say that!-"

"I know, but don't blame him too much okay?"

The poet rolled his eyes at that. "Of course you'd say that even now. Okay, so after you left the bar?"

Grantaire hesitated. "I honestly can't remember too well. I was drunk and upset… Then Cosette showed up."

The girl nodded as she thought back…

_She should have accepted the ride home. She really should. As the rain began to come down a little harder she pulled her sweater closer around her and cut through the park. It had been such a nice night and now this. Her phone vibrated and she pulled it out briefly (It was Combeferre) before shoving it away. She'd look when she got home. As she ran past the duck pond she was startled to see a huddled form on one of the benches._

_Maybe it was her father's influence but she slowed to look at the figure closer and with a jolt realized she recognized the messy, and now soaked, curls_

_"…Grantaire?"_

_The drunk's knees were pulled up to his chest and his face was hidden behind them and his arms. Cosette was a little uncomfortable as she and the cynic hadn't spoken much but she couldn't stand to leave him like this. "M. Grantaire?"_

_"I'm not the best company right now." His voice was strange. From the way he was shaking she'd assumed that he'd been crying but his voice didn't falter at all as he spoke._

_"Is there any way I can help you?" She asked quietly as she sat next to him, ignoring the rain. "You shouldn't be out here, it's not healthy."_

_He finally looked up, hair in his eyes. She liked his eyes, they were moss green and sparkled with mischief but now they were almost gray and devoid of emotion. He frowned slightly and then laughed hollowly. "Healthy… I am so incredibly the farthest thing from… You have no idea."_

_"Then tell me." She murmured, sliding a little closer and looking him over. "Just talk. Whatever pops into your head."_

_For a long moment he was silent and Cosette was afraid he wasn't going to respond. Then-_

_"I had to drop out of college because I was failing most of my classes and never actually showed up because I was always drunk and unfocused. Then I got laid off for the same reasons and couldn't pay my rent because of it and now I have," He checked a watch on his left wrist. "Three hours to get my crap out of my apartment before they sell it. And as if that weren't enough-as if the world hadn't proven what a complete loser I am-I tried, for once in my life, to show him that I could actually be somewhat useful and royally screwed it all up. I am so pathetic that I can't even do a simple task without messing it up and failing him…"_

_Even now the young man wasn't crying. Just sitting there and staring ahead blankly. Cosette swallowed hard, not needing to ask who 'he' was. "…Grantaire… Would you like to come home with me? I'm sure my papa would like to help you out."_

_He jerked away as though he'd been burned and began backing off as she stood to follow him. "I don't need your help. I'm not… I don't want your pity."_

_"It's not pity." He raised an eyebrow and she blew out a breath. "Alright, it's a little bit pity. But it's also because I like you and I want to help and you don't deserve to be out here alone like this."_

_He looked at her for a long time before managing a crooked grin. "You're the first person to actually admit you're pitying me. Weirdly refreshing… Always annoying when people assume you can't tell that they're trying to fix you." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for that, princess."_

_He was about to pull away when she grabbed his wrist and held on tight. Holding her breath she pulled him close and put a hand behind his head to keep his face pressed into her neck. Praying she was right about this, Cosette felt the older man stiffen as she clung to him; his arm on her shoulder now clenching at her sweater to keep his balance and his other arm floating uselessly behind her. Then he began to shake and both arms wrapped around her neck as she tangled her hand in his curls and held on to him for dear life. He was taller than her and it was a little awkward but she stayed like that with him in the pouring rain as he, not cried, he still wasn't crying, but nonetheless broke down in her arms._

_When Jean opened the door a half an hour later and raised an eyebrow in question, Cosette just smiled nervously as she squeezed Grantaire's hand tightly. "So, can we keep him?"_

"You have to see everyone." Jehan insisted, gripping Grantaire's arm. "You have no idea how much everyone's been worried. I get that you thought that you weren't welcome at the meetings-which is a lie and I promise that everyone will want to kick Enjy's face in for implying that-but you could have at least mentioned where you were."

Grantaire ran a hand over his face, which Jehan couldn't help but notice was clean-shaven for once, and sighed heavily. "I didn't want you to see me the way I was back then. I guess I was embarrassed."

"Why would—'Taire, what possible reason would you have to think that-"

The older man rolled his eyes and leaned over to whisper in his ear. Slowly Jehan's eyes widened and he began to smile before screaming loudly and flinging himself onto the cynic who laughed at the younger boy's delighted face.

* * *

**I hope this makes up for that cliffhanger. I never thought I'd be writing a fic where R and Cosette are bros but here we are. When I started this fic my first thought was that R could really benefit from Jean's influence and it sort of ran away from me from there. We'll be seeing more of the last few months from R's point of view, so flashbacks will abound for a while. As for next chapter housekeeping, there's a short part where they are going to be referred to by their first names. Does that upset anyone or is it all right for me to go down that road? I'd love name suggestions since I've only got a couple figured out so far. I think that's it for now.**

**Please give me feedback. **


	3. Chapter 2

Enjolras rolled over in his bed and blinked dazedly up at the ceiling before casting a look at the clock on his bedside table. It was only six thirty on a Saturday morning but already his phone was buzzing. The activist grabbed at it and scowled down at the text.

_Hey. With Bahorel at ER. Long story. _

_Jehan didnt come home last night._

_Call 4 me?_

_-Courfeyrac (ISaBOSS)_

Enjolras groaned and sat up, already punching the number in as he warred between irritation at his friends in general and concern for one in particular. When the poet didn't pick up, the blond typed out a text and hoped he just couldn't hear the phone or-

_Hi. Srry bout this. Forgot to call_

'_Rac. I'm fine, staying over at a friend's._

_:) Jehan XX_

The man sighed in relief and typed back.

_I'll let your idiot roommates know._

_-E_

_Did you get any sleep last night?_

_:) Jehan XX_

_Enough._

_-E_

Almost immediately Enjolras felt guilty for the abrupt response and continued with:

_Until some idiot woke me up anyway. :P _

_Have fun at your friend's._

_-E_

_You have a nice day too. :) _

_Don't work too hard._

_:) Jehan XX_

Enjolras smiled ruefully as he leapt out of bed and hurried to get his roommate up so they could go out for food. On the other side of town, Grantaire guiltily put down the phone and stared ahead absentmindedly. He looked down, ruffled Jehan's hair, and extracted himself from the cuddle pile that had developed over night before sneaking off to get some painting done.

* * *

Detective Ramin Frasier knew his partner was hard to get along with, but no one could doubt his dedication to the work and that counted for something. Right?

As the man looked around the spotless office to the desk covered in files and take out, he reminded himself to amp up his campaign to get the older man a girlfriend. He placed a coffee on the desk and eyed his partner nervously. "Did you go home last night?"

"There were three more burglaries between eleven last night and five this morning." Javert muttered.

The younger man groaned and slumped into a seat. "Seriously? And they think it was our guys?"

"Unfortunately." Javert drained his coffee and eyed his partner thoughtfully. "It had the same methods as the others and the take was about the same. You didn't go home either."

"Guilty." The younger man laughed nervously. "I was at my fiancé's house. Anyway, did you find anything in the statements from last night?"

Choosing to ignore the fact that his partner had made a visit to his woman in the middle of a case the older man tapped a file. (Let it never be said that Javert didn't know how to pick his battles) "They didn't see anything. Even if they did, they're less than reliable witnesses."

"They seemed nice enough." Frasier said off-handedly and then immediately regretted it when the older man glared and slammed a heavy stack of files onto the table. It was an impressive collection; each file was crammed full of papers and Frasier had to bite back a laugh. "How often have you had to deal with these kids?"

"More than I'd like."

Frasier opened the first file and began to read. The first paper was labeled 'Anton Joly' and a photo showed the redhead who had smart-mouthed him the night before. He smiled as he continued to read; age 22, med student in his fourth year, been detained during a rally that had dissolved into a riot and promptly assured the arresting officers that he'd developed a case of pneumonia during his stay in the holding cell. Fascinating.

The next one was a large intimidating man that had been detained in the same rally for punching an officer that had tried to manhandle two of the smaller men. Brian Lesgle was 31, studying law and had a ridiculously long medical history. It would seem the young man had undergone every injury possible.

29 year old Luc Bahorel had been arrested four separate times; twice during a rally and twice for a couple of nasty bar fights where he nearly hospitalized his opponents. Frasier rather liked the look of the snarky and tough boy, who was apparently studying whatever struck his fancy, and had seemingly little interest in actually graduating.

The next file was rather smaller than most of the others and unlike his companions, not a student. Nathan Feuilly was 27 and only seemed to have dealt with the police on a few sparse occasions. Frasier felt a jolt of sympathy as he looked over the papers from a local boys home, describing the kid's childhood.

The sight of the petit boy with a braid long enough to throw over his shoulder made him smile. This one he remembered. Jean Prouvaire was only 19, obviously the youngest of these student activists; a student of sociology of all things, and a bit of a spitfire if the reports of him apparently knocking out a man at a protest were true.

23 years old, Jacques Courfeyrac came from a high-class family and was known to throw a punch or two. It seemed that on the occasions where bail was needed it was his family lawyer that got them all out.

The two largest stacks were at the bottom. The first was of Raoul Combeferre, a 24 year old law and philosophy student who had a list of brushes with the law that went all the way back to his junior year of high school. Nonetheless the man seemed to be a good student and obviously knew the system well because almost all of the charges against him ended up dropped.

Now the last file… It was twice the size of the others.

The photo was of a stunningly attractive young man who stared challengingly at the camera. Right, this was the one who looked ready to deck Javert the night before… Julian Enjolras, 22, also studying law and…

"Bloody hell…" Frasier looked up in shock. "His father is…"

"He's been disinherited but yes." Javert scowled. "For a politician's brat, he's more trouble than he's worth."

The file indicated that the boy had been getting in trouble with the authorities since middle school. As well as his protests and rallies, the boy was a part of many organizations and charities that had been a part of many successful social revolutions. Frasier couldn't help but be impressed.

"Are you sure these kids wouldn't be helpful?"

Javert glared hard enough that Frasier could actually feel the stare burning a hole into his face.

* * *

Grantaire stumbled into the kitchen, yawning in exhaustion, and just managed to get out a 'good morning' before almost tripping over his own feet. Valjean looked up from the stove and smiled. "Good morning. Coffee's on the counter. Eggs will be done soon."

"Merci." Grantaire tugged at the drawstring of his pajama bottoms, which hung precariously on his hips and stumbled to the machine. "I'll look at the gutter later today if that's alright? Looks a little clogged up."

"That's fine with me. I have to go out of town later, so if you could make sure Cosette gets where she needs to today, that would be a great help." The man smiled. "I suppose your friend is still asleep?"

"Out like a light. Thanks for letting us do these impromptu sleep overs."

Valjean smiled kindly and chuckled. "I wasn't about to let that one drive himself home at that hour of the night. You certainly got him wound up."

The young man leaned against the counter with the mug warming his hands; stormy green eyes stared down at the drink and he took a deep breath. "After months of no communication… Small wonder he's mad."

"Have you explained why?" Valjean moved to stand next to him, staring at him earnestly.

"Yes, and he says he still wishes I'd told him but…" Grantaire smiled sadly. "He gets it."

"I knew he would." Valjean said firmly, grasping the thin shoulder next to him and waiting until the young man looked up at him. "He cares about you. Your friends will support you no matter what you decide next."

A flood of gratitude made Grantaire hide his flushed face behind his cup as he watched the older man continue on breakfast. Valjean kept an eye on the cynic as he sat at the table and began drawing.

_Hangovers were hell and that was Grantaire's only thought as he woke up. His head was aching, his body hurt and he shivered even under a thick quilt—and that made him open his eyes in confusion. _

_This was not his bed. _

_The drunk sat up and looked around the room, head still spinning. It was a lovely room, neat and comforting but none of that made the young man feel any calmer as he huddled in the blankets. He couldn't remember where he was or what had happened the night before and that sensation always terrified him. He took steadying breaths as he fell back against the pillows and covered his eyes with his hands._

_He could remember… The rent, he couldn't pay the rent… And then the bar and –-his breath caught painfully-Enjolras, angry and telling him… and then he was in the park and it was raining and…_

"_R?"_

_Oh, right, Cosette._

_He could kind of remember reaching her house and collapsing onto their couch as voices spoke urgently above him. Now as the girl walked in, bearing a tray and smiling cheerfully, he felt the shame building up in his chest. _

"_Hey now, none of that." The girl said firmly as she set the tray down and went to let the soft morning light through one of the windows. "Papa went to your apartment last night and Marius helped him gather all your things. I didn't know you two were neighbors." _

"_I think 'were' is the key word there." Even he winced at the way his voice sounded. He looked blankly at the plate of eggs and toast accompanied by a mug of tea and another of coffee before rubbing at his eyes, trying to force his mind to catch up to what was going on. "So… So he knows what happened."_

_The slight creaking of a floorboard made him look up and catch sight of said young man lurking in the doorway. Marius wasn't sure what kind of reaction he was going to get; for all that they saw each other at meetings he wasn't very close with the older boy and this felt like an incredibly personal moment. Grantaire for his part looked scared as he sat there, surrounded by blankets, tray in front of him and dressed in what must have been Valjean's clothing. For the first time, Marius realized that the drunk wasn't much older than him. He'd always assumed, because of the drunk's worldly attitude… _

"…_I know that you've been evicted. Cosette wouldn't tell me anything else."_

"_It wasn't my story to tell." The girl said softly as she sat next to Grantaire on the bed. "No one else knows you're here and they won't until you want them to. I promise."_

"_I think I ought to go." He tried to untangle himself but Cosette pushed him back gently and he blinked owlishly at her before picking up the coffee and sipping it slowly. Despite his headache, all he really wanted was a bottle._

_Cosette smiled approvingly and stood up. "I know you don't want to be a bother but you have nowhere to go and we have plenty of room. You can stay here until you land on your feet."_

"_I don't…"_

"_Hey!" The small girl whirled and glared at the boy, pointing a finger. "I'm sorry, maybe you've misunderstood. You have no choice in the matter."_

_Grantaire stared at her for a long moment before turning back to his breakfast despite the pounding in his head. "Why are all the girls I know so bossy?"_

"Papa!"

Cosette's voice startled Grantaire from his drawings as the blonde threw herself at Valjean and hugged him. "Are you making pancakes too? Because Jehan is a vegetarian."

Valjean smiled at the shy boy who inched into the kitchen, pulling at his sweater nervously. "Plenty of pancakes, fruit, and coffee for all. Sleep well, son?"

"Yessir, thank you for letting me stay over." He clambered onto Grantaire's lap as the older boy grinned. "R, why are you up so early?"

"I actually get up before noon now." The cynic said with a straight face.

"It's a miracle!" Jehan cried cheekily as he pretended to faint and fall to the floor, Marius having to step over him to get to a seat.

"By the way, you got a text this morning. You didn't tell 'Feyrac you weren't coming home and he got worried."

Eyes widening, Jehan smacked his forehead. "I didn't even think about letting them know. Drat, and this after me yelling at them about late nights…"

"I guess he was calling around in a bit of a panic." Grantaire shrugged. "Someone else had to get ahold of you so I'm guessing you're doing that thing where you blocked his number again?"

"Yeeeeaaahhh… He's been-Wait, so who called?"

The older man continued to sketch in his book, pointedly ignoring the curious look on the little poet's face. Jehan frowned and stared at the lowered green eyes thoughtfully before gasping and looking over the artist's shoulder at Cosette and Marius. "Omigosh, he was texting Enjolras…"

Cosette was on him before he could blink, grabbing his arm and shaking it hard. "Well?!"

"He didn't know it was me!" The cynic yelped while Marius wearily accepted a cup of coffee from Valjean. "It was Jehan's phone so I let him think it was him. It's not a big deal."

Cosette and Jehan both shook their heads enthusiastically. "It's the closest you've come to facing him so far." The girl beamed. "It's a start."

"Shall I say grace or would someone else like to?" Valjean asked as he sat down and the four younger people sheepishly calmed down and joined him.

Jehan's hand shot up and the boy quickly began to recite, "God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food. By his hands, we are fed, thank you God, for our daily bread. This food looks good, by jove I think, no more waiting, time to eat! Amen!"

Valjean chuckled. "Now I know who you are. Cosette's talked about how much fun she had with you in that poetry class. I don't know much about the subject but she's read me some of your work I enjoyed it very much."

Beaming, Jehan began chatting with the man while Grantaire and Marius began a quiet conversation. Cosette looked around the table where all her boys were getting along and smiled happily.

Grantaire was listening to Marius with the look that Joly had once called the 'cat who ate the canary' grin and was the bane of his friends' existences.

"All I'm saying, R, is that I don't see why everyone had to say that it was such a bad play…"

"It's not that it's a bad play." The older man said patiently. "It's that, of all his works, it's the most ridiculous, and I'm counting Twelfth Night here. The premise that these two kids meet and just fall head over heels for each other is preposterous."

"Not necessarily." Marius mumbled shyly, looking over at Cosette, who grinned prettily.

Grantaire lurched out of his chair and fell into the other man's lap, waving his arms wildly. "I am agog, I am aghast! Beware sweet Marius, 'These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume!"

"Get off, you lump." Marius shoved him off, fighting a twitch of a smile.

The cynic hauled himself up, clinging to the table edge. "Your classmates are just messing with you because you're a romantic and fun to tease. You're right too, there are some great moments and messages in the play."

Jehan jumped in. "And after all, no matter what you think of the message you have to admit that the prose is amazing."

"Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?!"

"'Taire, shut up." The little poet shrugged. "Romeo and Juliet was my first play, it was what got me into poetry. I remember reading: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite."

Grantaire grabbed for more coffee. "I like 'Don't waste your love on somebody, who doesn't value it.' Real words of wisdom there."

"R…"

"That and 'Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and all Montagues.' I dunno why but that always makes me laugh."

Valjean smiled ruefully. "I think you would have gotten along famously with The Bard."

The smile that the young man gave him back was genuine and made the old man sigh into his coffee as the young people continued their arguments and fun; his mind drifting…

* * *

_Valjean wanted to like the young man who had become a member of their household but unfortunately the boy seemed to be avoiding him. For someone who had been spoken of as a loud and passionate debater, 'R' remained quiet and subdued. He brushed off attempts to talk and spent much of his time staring into space; as though deep in thought and working out a puzzle that was giving him trouble. While he avoided Valjean, however, Grantaire seemed to have become attached to Cosette almost unhealthily; following her around like a lost puppy and silently watching them go about their lives. It was a gray Sunday morning as Valjean looked at the hunched figure in the pew next to him and figured out why he felt so strongly about this boy. As Grantaire looked around the church nervously, waiting for Cosette to return to them, the mistrust in his eyes was glaring. This was one of those things that Valjean could remember well._

_Leaving prison had been hard. Attempting to regain his trust in his fellow man was even harder. He could remember all too well the sensation that every face he saw was judging him; that he was never going to feel accepted again… _

"_Jean, may I speak to you for a moment?"_

_Valjean looked up and smiled. "Pastor, hello."_

_Pastor __Myriel__ looked from his friend to the newcomer sitting at his side. "I see you've brought a guest. What's your name, son?"_

_It had been a while since the young cynic had been called that, that much was obvious. Valjean watched the boy flinch and stare up at the elderly man in shock. Walking through life, never expecting any love or understanding, assuming that you were going to be rejected and pushed away… Valjean knew that life so well and seeing it in another was hard to bear. _

"…_Grantaire." The cynic shrugged, as though accepting his fate. "I'm… Staying with Valjean and Cosette."_

"_Indeed." __Myriel__ stood there for a long moment and Valjean was tempted to break the awkward silence when the boy looked down._

"_I got kicked out of my apartment for being an alcoholic." If the surprised look on his face was any indication, Grantaire had not intended to share that. His face reddened and he hunched over, tensing as though readying himself for a blow._

_His eyes were screwed shut so he only heard the soft sound of fabrics moving and the slight creak of the hardwood floor. Grantaire wrenched his eyes open and found himself looking at the elderly pastor, who had moved to his knees to be eye-level with the boy. __Myriel reached out slowly and put a hand on Grantaire's shoulder, smiling sadly._

"_I am sorry to hear that. But you are in the best of hands with Jean and his daughter. I hope you'll be coming again. Cosette says you're an artist, I would love to see some of your work one day." He saw the surprised look on the young man's face and smiled again, this time a little sadly. "You're more than welcome here, son."_

_Grantaire lurched to his feet, dodging past both men and running for the door as Valjean stood to go after him._

_Outside, Grantaire was taking deep, shuddering breaths and leaning against the old brick wall. Valjean stood next to him silently, letting the kid… The kid who hadn't had a drink in—how could he not have noticed? _

"_Son, are you alright?"_

"_Stop calling me that!" Grantaire slid to the ground, putting his head in his hands and rubbing at his eyes. "You… You're not all supposed to act like this. You… You should be…"_

_Valjean joined the young man on the ground and nodded his understanding. "Your addiction is not reason for you to be cast aside. How long has it been since you had a drink?"_

"_I… I think it's been two days but it may be longer. It feels longer." He kept rubbing at his face and tried to decide what to say next. He couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken to him about his problem without judgment or resignation. Most of the Amis had begun to resent him for not even caring about his health, and those like Jehan who worried about him had given up on his chances. "I've never… One of my friends used to tell me that the reason that I-I never get anywhere is because I don't believe in anything."_

_Valjean put an arm around his shoulders and pointedly looked ahead as the young man began to rub at his arms and let out a weak and strangled laugh that sounded more like a whimper. "Grantaire, what made you run off?"_

"_Didn't Cosette tell you?" The young man's voice was strained._

"_No. She told me what happened but I want to know why this was different. I've met your friend I doubt that he's an easy man to know. What happened on that night in particular?"_

"_It's one thing for him to hate me for being unwilling to try; I deserve that. I did though. Try. And…" The rubbing was slowly turning into scratching as the young man closed his eyes. "I couldn't do it. The moment that the job got hard, I physically couldn't bring myself to do it. All I could think about was how hard it felt and how scared I was of failing and I felt sick. I've always sort of felt like this and it's so much easier to just not try because then there's no pressure and let's face it, I'm too much of a screw up to actually achieve anything."_

"_When you face a problem, is it like a wall is in front of you? Halting your movements?"_

_Valjean gently removed the young man's hands from where they were coming dangerously close to injuring himself as Grantaire jolted in shock. The young drunk was starting to shake. "Yes, and I feel like I'm buried in sand and can't move and can't breathe and it scares me."_

"_You're not alone." The older man held his position and made sure to keep his voice low and comforting. "I have many friends who have gone through the same thing. Son, this is not something that makes you a bad person. This does not make you weak."_

"_I ran because I can't keep doing this anymore. I can't keep failing them and not caring and just… existing. I CAN'T anymore!" Grantaire looked up desperately at Valjean. "I actually want… I want so many things but more than anything I don't…"_

_As the young cynic struggled to get the words out, the older man wordlessly pulled him into a hug and put a hand on the top of his head. "Son, you don't have to figure it out by yourself. This is a long process but Cosette and I will help you. You're not alone, child."_

_Grantaire shook for a moment before burying his head in the older man's shoulder and crying. The drunk clung to Valjean in desperation as years of repressed anger and pain finally released. Valjean smiled in relief as he rocked the young man. _

_This was a step in the right direction._

* * *

Frasier sighed and rubbed at his neck as he looked around the shop and took in the smashed glass that littered the floor. He nodded at a beat cop to finish clearing out the scene and looked over to where Javert was going through the smashed cash register. "This is getting ridiculous. How are these guys getting away with this?"

"We need to step up patrols in the area." Javert shook his head and joined the younger man. "Maybe a show of more man power will help deter them."

Frasier sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Deterrence is one thing. Passing on justice is another."

Javert smiled fondly; well aware that some of his own stubbornness was rubbing off on his partner. "Come on Remy. We have reports to write."

* * *

**That last scene with Valjean and R hurt a little to write but was a helluva release. Grantaire is kind of my spirit animal so getting into his head makes me do strange things. My friend/proof-reader asked if I was trying to make her cry and it was a mix of 'no, of course not' and 'eh-heh-heh-heh…' I hope that the dynamic between Javert and Frasier is interesting because I adore Javert and hope to continue to use him throughout this series. YES, it's a series now; still looking for a name for this universe but I have the sequels planned. Please give me feedback because I need to know what I'm doing right or need to change. Thanks for sticking with me this far. **


	4. Chapter 4

Bahorel threw his fists in the air and let out a loud and irritating screech of victory as Feuilly moaned and put his head in his hands. "I give up, how the hell are you so good at this?"

The boxer grinned wolfishly and twirled his paddle with one hand. "I am the Ping-Pong king. Anyone else wanna give it a go?"

Bossuet stood up from where he was sitting with his roommates, gently pulling Musichetta from his lap and making his way to the table. The girl and Joly both began to cheer on their friend as he snatched the other paddle from a relieved looking Feuilly. "If only to shut you up, 'my liege'."

"En guard, 'peasant'."

Ignoring them, Jehan made his way through the group and sat next to Musichetta; the woman smiling knowingly and putting an arm around his shoulders. "Alright, little man. What's wrong?"

The poet scowled and slumped in his seat. "Courfeyrac's got his girlfriend over at the apartment and they were being all 'touchy' in the living room. I can't believe that I got chased out of my own house."

Joly rolled his eyes, "I figured you and 'Rel would be used to that crap by now."

"Doesn't make it any easier." Bahorel muttered as he plopped down on the couch next to his roommate; the three-person seat becoming crowded with the addition of the larger boy. "You know that's why he's living with us right? He tried it with 'Ferre and Enjy and our fine leader put the fear of God into him. Of course I could have told you that it would happen; 'Rac and Enjolras living together? Yeah right…"

"Weren't you playing Ping-Pong?"

"Bossuet broke the paddle."

The large man looked sheepish as he sat on the floor in front of them. "I'll pay them for it."

Feuilly had settled next to him on the floor, looking a little uncomfortable about being in the University's rec room. Musichetta looked up from where she was braiding Jehan's hair. "Speaking of your 'fearless leader', has anyone thought about maybe telling him to back off on that project of his?"

"That's a little bit like telling the grass to stop being green." Joly sighed. "Let's face it, we can't talk him out of it and he'll do it no matter what anyone says."

Feuilly frowned. "The thing about your analogy is that grass does change color; when it dies during the summer. If we don't say something soon, he's going to be forced to stop when he collapses from exhaustion or stress. Remember when I tried to juggle three jobs and ended up in the hospital?"

"My point exactly." The woman finished tying off her friend's hair and turned to the rest of the group. "You lot need to get him to take a step back for a while."

They all exchanged looks that quite clearly said 'easier said than done'. Feuilly sighed. "Doesn't help that none of us can really stand up to him in a debate."

* * *

"'Taire!" Cosette hopped out of her boyfriend's car and hurried up the driveway, dodging puddles and pulling her pale pink windbreaker tighter around her.

Grantaire looked down from the roof and smiled at her. "Hey, Princess. How was class?"

"R, can you come down? I wanna talk to you about something."

The cynic rolled his eyes and went back to his task; but not before playfully dropping some gunk near the girl, who squealed and darted out of the way. "If this is another attempt to get me to 'engage with others'…"

"You. Down here. Now."

The young man clambered down the ladder and leapt lightly to stand before her, eyebrow cocked. "May I help you, madam?"

"Inside."

They walked into the house, the man rubbing furiously at his hands to get the gunk off as the girl opened the door for him frostily. Cosette allowed him to duck out to change into clean clothes and made herself some tea as she grumbled under her breath. Once Grantaire had wandered back over, in a clean gray t-shirt and jeans, she turned to him and pointed with her stirring spoon.

"There's an Amis meeting tonight. You should come." Grantaire sighed and moved to the refrigerator, ignoring the younger girl; but she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "R, it's been a very, very long time. They miss you. You heard everything Jehan told you last night. You can't stay a ghost; you need to get back into…life!"

Pulling out a bottle of coke, Grantaire kicked the fridge shut and moved toward the table. "Cosette, no. We've talked about this; going to a meeting would be a step back."

"No it wouldn't!" She sat next to him and grasped his arm. "I think it would be a step forward. You can't fully heal unless you address… Well…"

"I know." He shook his head as he sipped from his drink. "But… Not yet; I'm not ready."

She sighed and began to flip through one of his sketchbooks. "You're never going to be ready."

"Hey now…" He reached over to put a hand under her chin and forced eye contact. "Why the gloomy mood?"

She pouted, running a finger over the delicate brush-strokes of one of his better paintings. "I just want to help you all, but everyone's so stubborn."

"Who else is having trouble?" Grantaire sipped from his soda and leaned back, looking curious.

"Papa's been… Acting strange lately. He saw something on the TV last week and…"

The young man understood. He too had noticed the odd behavior from the man.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. "I'm sure that whatever it is, Jean has it under control."

"But…"

"No buts." He glared. "Go on, you've got a paper to finish."

The young man leaned back in his seat, staring off into space and holding the bottle loosely in his hand. It had been a while. Cosette and Marius kept him busy and entertained but he did miss some of the others; seeing Jehan again had been fantastic and not as uncomfortable as he'd thought. He placed his drink on the table and moved his head into his hands, sighing in frustration. Grantaire knew full well that sooner or later he needed to face his old friends; he loved them too much not to. He'd come so far, grown so much in the last six months and he had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. Not a thing.

So why the hell was he so nervous?

Sighing again, the artist pulled his chair closer to the table and rested his head on his arms as he closed his eyes.

* * *

"Enjolras… Enjolras!"

The activist's head snapped up and he blinked owlishly up at Combeferre's smiling face before realizing he'd fallen asleep again. He straightened in his seat and looked around the room. "Sorry, late night."

It had taken a couple hours for him to fall asleep and he'd woken early in the morning to find himself crying. Needless to say, that had freaked him out slightly and he'd gotten up immediately, trying to remember what he'd seen in his dreaming that had shaken him so badly. Enjolras was beginning to hate the sight of his petitions and papers, they seemed to laugh at him in their stacks, reminding him of how much work was still to be done. Needing a break, he'd gone out that afternoon to get his mind off of it and met up with Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Bahorel and-

"Marius?"

The young man looked up from his notes and smiled at the perplexed look on his friend's face. Enjolras pushed away his book and looked around the café. "Where…"

"They went to get food." The boy admitted. "You were pretty out of it and we decided to get some pizzas or something before the meeting starts."

"Ah." Enjolras nodded, rubbing at his face. Combeferre watched with a certain amount of concern.

His best friend's behavior was becoming more and more erratic; though he'd never admit it to him, he'd woken to distressed sounds from Enjolra's room that morning and been rather frightened. Enjolras never had nightmares and it was just another of many small inconsistencies that had the man wondering if an intervention was needed. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the return of their companions. Soon the whole group had arrived and they began a heated discussion on the upcoming rally.

Feuilly was shaking his head nervously. "I just think we ought to tone it down a little, you know?"

"We can't afford to be subtle anymore." Enjolras snapped. "We're running out of time. If we don't get some public support soon, we'll loose the building."

From his seat at the activist's left, Courfeyrac frowned in annoyance. The meeting was almost half over and it had been completely spent as an argument between some of the boys and Enjolras. This wasn't working; the blonde's temper was holding them back from reaching any sort of agreement. The young man leaned over to whisper to Cosette. "Any clue what 'Jol's problem is?"

The girl looked up from her phone. "Why do you ask? Why would I know?"

"I dunno. Woman's intuition?"

"If we weren't in a meeting I'd slap you."

* * *

Grantaire paced the length of the dining room, rubbing at his face. He looked up at the clock, noting that the Amis meeting was most likely half over at this point and drummed his fingers against his leg.

_It's a bad idea._

He gritted his teeth and leaned against the wall.

_It won't make a difference. _

Eyes shut tightly, he tried to ignore the pounding in his head and jerked toward the kitchen. He scrambled for his sketchbook, opening to a blank page and scribbling absent-mindedly. As he finished shading what was shaping up to be a garden wall, the pounding was almost gone and he began to breathe a little easier. Pushing the book away he grabbed his soda and took a long drag as his eyes trailed over to a piece of paper lying near the phone. He pulled it over and looked it over with a small smile; Valjean's handwriting was messy and the notes he took when he was on the phone were always choppy and never made sense to anyone but him. The cynic was about to shove it away when his eye caught a small bit of red writing on the notepad.

"Great Things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together."

_...There's an Amis meeting tonight. You should come. You can't stay a ghost; you need to get back into life. You can't fully heal unless you address… Where the hell have you BEEN?! You're our friend. I have been worried SICK about you! Your friends will support you no matter what you decide next. We love you!_

_You're not alone, child..._

Grantaire stared at the paper for a long moment before groaning. "Oh… HELL."

* * *

Cosette sighed and slumped in her seat. The meeting had ended five minutes ago and STILL the boys were arguing. It didn't help that some of them had downed a couple drinks and Enjolras was starting to snap. The girl turned to bury her head on her boyfriend's shoulder and blinked at the astonished look on his face; his warm eyes lit up and a huge grin spread across his face as he looked down at her.

She followed his gaze and her jaw dropped at the sight of Grantaire slowly entering the room, looking from one person to the next with a wistful smile. She put a hand over her mouth and felt a pricking in her eyes as he caught her gaze and grinned nervously.

Courfeyrac noticed the stiffening of the girl next to him and looked up to ask what was wrong, catching sight of the cynic hovering nearby. Without a word and grinning like a loon, the young man practically vaulted over the table and tackled Grantaire even as Joly and Bossuet turned and sprang to their feet with excited shouts. All four boys toppled to the floor as they clung to each other, laughing and squeezing tightly. The rest of the boys were a bit more subdued but showed their excitement, even Combeferre smiled broadly and nodded at the cynic.

Bahorel and Jehan managed to pull the boys off of Grantaire and the poet hugged him tightly. "Thanks." He mumbled into the dark curls as the cynic kissed his cheek.

"Just don't leave me alone with these people."

Grantaire enjoyed the laugh that Jehan had to stifle in his shoulder as stood up, waving awkwardly at the group. "Hey."

"Hey." Feuilly grinned back. "So where the hell have you been?"

"Oh you know." Grantaire laughed nervously. "Around…"

"He's been staying with me." Cosette said calmly. "Sorry not to tell any of you but he wouldn't let me."

The look on the cynic's face screamed betrayal as she stared calmly back and a few of the boys laughed. Combeferre drew up a chair and nodded. "Come on then R; have a seat. We can get you a drink."

Swallowing hard, Grantaire accepted the seat between Jehan and Bahorel and shook his head. "I'm good. Actually, do you guys have any water?"

"Seriously?" Bahorel asked, raising an eyebrow and scoffing. "Since when do you pass up a free drink?"

Cosette, Marius and Jehan all looked at Grantaire with a little concern as he straightened and took another deep breath. "Since about two months ago."

There was a long moment of silence and then Joly managed. "So… You haven't had a drink in…"

Grantaire smiled shyly.

* * *

Enjolras could pinpoint the exact moment his brain stopped working upon seeing Grantaire enter the room. The excited yells from his friends sounded muffled and hazy as he stared at the cynic. He barely heard Cosette's explanation and the response from his best friend went over his head as he stared at the dark haired boy.

"_You are quite possibly the most ignorant, irritating waste of space that I have ever met!"_

Why was he remembering this now? He managed to pull himself from the fog in time to hear the comment about Grantaire's drinking and see the tiny, strange smile on the cynic's face. That was a weird smile, it looked real; which lead to him realizing that the smiles he was used to seeing on the older man were fake and why did that matter?!

Joly was ranting at Grantaire, checking his forehead and rambling on about withdrawal symptoms as the cynic laughed. He managed to push the redhead off of him and disentangle Bahorel from the crushing hug he'd pulled him into. "Yes, trust me, I know all about the downsides of sobriety." He sighed and accepted a cup of water from Feuilly. "That's why I sort of cut myself off from you all. Trust me, you didn't want to see that."

"I think you should have let us decide that." Courfeyrac looked horrified. "My uncle went cold turkey; he really needed support during the withdrawal phase."

"I had Cosette and Jean. I was fine." Grantaire assured him. "Look, I'm sorry guys. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Bahorel put a hand over his forehead. "Either he's actually sick or he's a pod person."

Marius grinned. "It's him, we promise. It's alright R; we were done anyway. Hey, show them the tat."

Blushing, Grantaire pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and revealed a small tattoo on his wrist. It was a beautiful, swooping script in black ink that read December 22 2013. As Bossuet and Bahorel looked it over appreciatively Grantaire explained. "It's the day I went cold turkey. Well, I tried a few other times but this is the time it worked. When I hit a whole year of being sober I'm getting another one on my other arm."

Feuilly grinned. "That's a great idea. I'm really happy for you."

"Yeah, well." Grantaire shrugged. "It was time to commit to being part of life instead of distracting myself from crap by drinking myself to death."

"_If you're not going to commit and just waste our time then I don't want you at the meetings. You're just a distraction."_

Enjolras felt like he'd been physically punched at that and made the mistake of looking up and catching Grantaire's eye. They stared at each other for a moment, Enjolras' mouth dry and for the first time in a very long time unable to think of something to say. Grantaire suddenly grinned.

"Not that I've started thinking that most of the crap you guys talk about is reasonable. I mean come on; Cosette says that you're still working on that condemned building. Seriously, it's been six months!"

"It's a worthwhile cause." Everyone jumped as Enjolras finally responded. He voice was steady and held that irritated undertone they were all used to at this point. Combeferre looked at him nervously.

"Yeah, don't get me wrong." Grantaire shrugged. "All for it, but after six months, you'd think you'd take a hint and see that these people aren't going to get on board. I really think the ship's sort of sailed at this point."

"That's why we have to fight for it." Enjolras snapped. "If people just gave up when things didn't got their way then there'd been many important movements that would never have seen the light of day and-"

"Have you been watching those 'underdog' movies with Jehan again?" The cynic leaned back in his chair. "Hollywood loves the idea of small groups of kids overcoming huge obstacles but I think we all know it's harder than that in real life."

"Not with effort." Enjolras was practically on his feet. "As long as someone is willing to start the fire and be a figurehead there will be interest. In the end the people will always-"

He was cut off by the unexpected sound of Grantaire slamming his head onto the table and laughing loudly. The blond stood there frozen and tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Grantaire was giggling into his hands as Combeferre shook his head slowly. "Are you two seriously doing this after six months of not seeing each other?"

This made Enjolras blush and Grantaire cackle even harder. The activist cleared his throat and looked away. "He started it."

"So now we're in preschool?"

"Shut it." Enjolras looked away before the other man could see the twitch of a smile on his face. Grantaire didn't seem interested in continuing the conversation anyway and leaned forward to grin at Bahorel.

"So been keeping out of trouble?"

"Hardly." The bigger man laughed. "Dude, even if ya aren't drinking anymore, we gotta hit the club scene. It's not as much fun without you."

"So in." Grantaire grinned and knuckle bumped him before looking at Joly. "Classes coming along?"

"Pretty well." The redhead shrugged. "I missed a couple of classes last week 'cause I thought I might have had-"

"Bronchitis." Bossuet laughed. "The idiot thought he had bronchitis. Musichetta and I practically had to tie him to the bed to keep him from running to the hospital. It was just a stupid cold."

Everyone laughed at Joly's blush and Grantaire turned to look at Feuilly and Marius. "Hey, I wanted to ask, the police contacted you about the break-in?"

"Not yet." Feuilly admitted. "We're not holding out much hope. There's been a lot of these break-ins going around."

"Damn, that sucks."

Enjolras watched as Grantaire turned his attention to Courfeyrac and began asking about his girlfriend. The cynic had been gone for months and yet he seemed to know more about their friends' day-to-day lives than the activist. Enjolras tried not to stare at Grantaire too obviously but Combeferre was smiling at him a little too smugly so he was probably failing miserably at that. He finally managed to growl at his best friend. "What?"

"He's fine." Pushing his glasses into place and still smiling, the man nodded to where Grantaire and Jehan were laughing. "Just like we said. He's better than fine. So enough with feeling guilty."

"…'The hell are you talking about?"

Combeferre didn't say any more but still smiled to himself.

* * *

Cosette lifted her head from Grantaire's stomach and peered up at his face. "Hey."

He looked down at her; she was sprawled out, her head on him and her legs on her boyfriend's lap. Jehan was curled against the cynic's shoulder and Courfeyrac was sprawled over all of their legs. Amidst the pillows and blankets that they'd purloined from pretty much every room in the house the five friends had spent the evening eating pizza, watching movies and cackling over jokes that would have made little sense to anyone else. Grantaire sighed and ruffled Cosette's hair. "What?"

She grinned. "Told you so."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes you did, Princess. Now go to sleep."

Courfeyrac hauled himself up slightly to peer at them. "Were you seriously trying to get out of coming back?"

"Not really, just wasn't looking forward to incurring the wrath of Apollo." The cynic laughed, running his fingers through Jehan's hair. Courfeyrac snorted and flopped back.

"If you were trying to 'avoid his wrath' then wasn't your little outburst back then a bit counter-productive?"

Grantaire's smile became a little smug. "I couldn't resist. I saw him and it was this automatic reaction. I couldn't help myself…"

"Well it was great for us." Marius admitted, rubbing his girlfriend's calf soothingly. "We didn't want to say anything, but he's been a real pain lately. At least when he lets you have it, you can fight back. He rips the rest of us to shreds."

Grantaire looked up at that, his brow furrowed a little in confusion. Before he could speak the door of the study opened and Jean stepped through, looking at the pile of Amis with a cocked eyebrow. "This looks cozy."

"Hey Mr. Valjean." Courfeyrac twisted around so he could look up at the older man. "I'm Courfeyrac, don't believe we've met."

Jean's eyes roved over each person before settling on the brunet with a small smile. "I believe you're right, pleased to meet you. There's a large futon in the game room if you'd like to pile in there. I believe Cosette and Jehan have already abandoned you for the dreamland."

They looked down at the two slumbering figures, trying to calculate how to disentangle from the cuddle-pile without waking them. They managed to huddle Cosette into her father's arms and Grantaire effortlessly began cradling Jehan like a baby. Carrying the poet was easy; getting him to let go so they could put him down was the tricky part. He left Courfeyrac and Marius trying to avoid becoming a teddy bear and stumbled toward his own room. He nearly ran into Jean as the man exited his daughter's room and mumbled an apology but the man reached down and pulled him into a hug.

"How'd it go?" He smiled as the young man melted into the contact and gave a long-suffering sigh. "That well?"

Grantaire smiled into his shoulder and shrugged. "Actually it went a lot better than I was expecting."

"They took you back without question?"

"Yeah."

"They were happy to hear the news? They were proud of you?"

"…Yeah."

"We TOLD you."

Grantaire groaned and pulled away, throwing his hands up. "You two are impossible!"

Jean kissed him on the forehead and left the young man on his own. As Grantaire flopped onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He smiled to himself, a soft laugh escaping as he put an arm over his eyes. "They told me…"

* * *

**Quote is from Vincent Van Gogh.**

**This took too long and I apologize but the 'reunion' drove me crazy. (But was fun to write.)**

**I made a blog for this series with an ASK section in it so if any of you want to ask the Amis questions of any kind, check out the link on my profile. I'm going to draw the answers and it'll be fun to practice the appearances of all the characters. **


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